and the seventh star fell
by Pencilwalla
Summary: Nasch remembers the way the Barian Lords were born. [spoilers past 108]


Sometimes Nasch remembers the days the Barians were born.

He remembers the whistling in the distance that would become a mighty roar, as a ball of light and fire and stone crashed out of the sky, remembers the way they were all born anew in the violent landings. It was as if they were stars, blinding and brilliant, torn from the sky and flung down into hell, their bodies heated and hardened by their rejection.

And really, when he thought of how the Barian World had come to be, it wasn't so far from the truth.

He remembers opening his eyes and knowing nothing but his own name. His body had been clumsy and heavy, and he had discovered all his powers and needs on instinct. He had been all alone – there was nothing else in the Barian World that he could see or hear or feel that was alive.

Merag had come, then, and they had never even needed words, from the moment he held out his hand and hauled her out of the crater she'd carved into the earth with the foce of her arrival. She had only said her name to him, and then they had been side by side, wandering the Barian World, and everything seemed much more interesting when there was someone at his side. Once she was there, he could hardly remember the days when she wasn't. She checked him and challenged him, and he was content.

Each of them had some special talent. Merag's senses were more acute than anyone's; she saw and heard what was hidden from them, and she could read the Barian power that filled their world while it went unnoticed by them.

Durbe had been third, landing awkwardly (was that why he could never manage flying?). He had been curious about things they had never even thought of, and it was Durbe who had looked into the clusters of light that sometimes formed in the air and heard the voices, pitiful and mewling and incoherent, that sometimes echoed forth. It was Durbe who had studied the Sea of Ill Will and who found their palace in the center of the world.

Durbe's mind was his gift – he was smart, and forgot nothing.

He, too, had been easy to grow accustomed to.

Mizael was fourth and center, and he alone had landed gracefully, legs underneath him, shining with the fading fire of his fall. He was a solitary person, and a warrior, and mysterious, and he didn't fit so easily into their three. Durbe had been fascinated with him from the moment he came, though, and before long if you wanted to find one you could just look to the other.

They were well-suited, and Mizael never minded joining them if Durbe asked, and so the peace was preserved.

Mizael was the one who pushed the rest of them into regular sparring, and from there they discovered the game and summoning and the world of monsters that they could, with some effort, reach out and drag into their own. It was battle where Mizael excelled, and he was deadly with a weapon in hand.

Alit and Gilag came at the same time, shaking the ground with their crashes. The open world and its endless places to train himself delighted Alit, and while Gilag was shy about his artistic pursuits and did his best to conceal them, he too found things in the world to enjoy. They were six now.

Gilag was strong, so strong that he could crush any of them in his fists, and Alit was deadlier unarmed than he was armed.

Vector had come last, and by the time they found his crater he was gone, nursing his wounds, and he had tried ambushing them all later, one by one, and they had had to beat him into submission before they could explain to him who and what they all were. He was suspicious, but he was inventive, creating clones and doing tricks with his power that none of them could fathom, let alone repeat.

It was Vector who had decided that they were kings, and it was Durbe who had declared that if they were the seven Lords, Nasch would be their head. Nasch had assumed that it would be an honorary title.

(Nasch's gift was pure, raw magical power.)

Then the Astrals had attacked, and he had found that no, it wasn't.


End file.
